


A Kindness

by notallbees



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Fingering, Aphrodisiacs, Casual Sex, Drugged Sex, First Time, Intercrural Sex, Kissing, M/M, No Spoilers, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Practice Kissing, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Recreational Drug Use, Rimming, Shotgunning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-26 08:30:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21371185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notallbees/pseuds/notallbees
Summary: Garreg Mach was a peaceful place, but it was loud during the day; the joyful peal of bells summoning students to and from classes, and marking the hours for worship; the thunder of hooves and the clash of steel from the training grounds; and always, the chatter of voices in the halls. From dawn to dusk, every hallway and cloister filled with gossip, laughter and shouting. Some days the noise felt like crockery clattering around in Dimitri's head. It followed him to the quiet of his room, rattling around his head so that he couldn't sleep.Dimitri's head is loud. Claude helps him to make things a little quieter.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 55
Kudos: 523





	A Kindness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Froggie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Froggie/gifts).

> new fandom! also i'm only halfway through my first route so no spoilers pls ;)
> 
> please check out the [absolutely gorgeous art](https://twitter.com/jaspurrlock/status/1199786368752336896) by jaspurrlock!! :>

The Knight's Hall was usually deserted so late at night. Dimitri liked the quiet. Garreg Mach was a peaceful place, but it was loud during the day; the joyful peal of bells summoning students to and from classes, and marking the hours for worship; the thunder of hooves and the clash of steel from the training grounds; and always, the chatter of voices in the halls. From dawn to dusk, every hallway and cloister filled with gossip, laughter and shouting. Some days the noise felt like crockery clattering around in Dimitri's head. It followed him to the quiet of his room, rattling around his head so that he couldn't sleep. 

On nights like that, he often found himself picking up his weapon and making his way to the Knight's Hall. It helped sometimes to drown out the noise in his head with the repetitive rhythm of weapon drills. To exhaust himself until he simply passed out. 

It was one such night, at the tail end of summer. The days had just begun to cool, and the nights were fresh, but after an hour of spear practice, Dimitri had stripped to his undershirt and breeches, and sweat ran down the side of his neck and between his shoulders. Despite the hard practice, his mind was still busy, and in a fit of pique he threw his spear against the nearest target where it stuck deep, handle quivering. He made a fruitless attempt to pull it free, then slumped, weary. 

Catching his breath, he decided to abandon his weapon until the morning and visit the cathedral instead; perhaps prayer would be his salvation that evening. However, he had barely stepped out into the courtyard before he noticed a dark, cloaked figure hurrying soundlessly through the cloister. Dimitri reached instinctively for his sword belt, cursing when he found it empty. Given the events of the past months, he should have been more careful about ensuring he was armed. There was no time to retrieve a weapon without losing his quarry. 

He hurried across the courtyard, keeping to the shadows, trying to quiet his footsteps. The stranger passed around the exterior of the Reception Hall, skirting the gardens. Dimitri followed, hurrying to catch up lest he lose them, however it proved to be his undoing. As he crept around a corner, he realised that the cloaked figure had vanished, but the moment he hesitated, a strong arm wrapped around his throat, and a gloved hand covered his mouth to muffle his shout.

Dimitri struggled, lashing back with one elbow. It earned him a surprised sound as he winded his opponent, but as he shrugged off the man's limp arms, ready to turn and fight, a croaky voice interrupted him. 

"Easy there, Highness," the man whispered hoarsely, tugging back the hood of his cloak to reveal his face. "Easy. Let's not do something I'll regret."

Having already raised his fists to defend himself, Dimitri frowned as the voice and the figure, muted as it was by shadows, tugged at the corners of his mind, strangely familiar. "...Claude?" he ventured, wary.

Claude managed a breathless laugh. "The same."

"What are you _doing_ out here?"

"Ah—practicing," Claude said, straightening up at last, though he was still rubbing his chest with a rueful expression. "Clearly I have a long way to go."

Dimitri wrinkled his nose. "Are you practicing subterfuge?"

"Something like that," Claude said, as evasive as ever. "What are _you_ doing out here? Or is attacking your inferiors a royal pastime?"

"Of course not!" Dimitri said, bristling. "I—thought you might be a ruffian."

"A ruffian?" Claude asked, smirking.

"It's lucky for you I didn't pick up my sword, or I'd have run you through."

Claude chuckled. "Don't make promises you don't intend to keep, Highness."

Without him really knowing why, heat flooded Dimitri's face, and he scrambled wordlessly for a response.

"You didn't really answer my question," Claude said before Dimitri could reply. "I _know_ you didn't follow me from my room, so what's a well-behaved young Prince like yourself doing out at such a late hour?"

Dimitri blinked. "Training." 

"Training," Claude repeated, watching him steadily. 

Dimitri touched his bottom lip with his tongue. "Yes."

"I see," Claude said. "It's late to be training. Why don't we walk back to the dormitories together?" He gave Dimitri a roguish wink. "I'm sure that between us we could handle a ruffian or two."

"No," Dimitri said quickly. Then, in the face of Claude's surprise, he continued, "I was on my way to the Cathedral."

Claude's eyebrows climbed even higher. "Worship, at this hour?"

Dimitri frowned. "The Goddess is always listening."

"Of course she is," Claude said, inclining his head. "I'm merely concerned for your health, Highness." 

His words were not wholly convincing, and Dimitri wasn't entirely sure they were meant to be—Claude never showed any particular devotion to the Church, even if he expressed no outright heresy that Dimitri was aware of. "There is no need," Dimitri said, retreating a few steps. "I thank you for your concern, but it is unwarranted."

Claude stepped away, moving into a patch of moonlight. The pale light picked out his pointed chin and sharp cheekbones, making his pretty face appear more angular, his expression colder. "I'll bid you goodnight then." He smirked. "And I suggest we keep this little excursion between ourselves, hm?"

"Y-yes," Dimitri said, nodding. He was disarmed by Claude's roguish manners, uncertain how to respond to him. "Goodnight, Claude."

Moments later, Claude melted back into the shadows, and Dimitri turned and started to move in the direction of the Cathedral. His skin felt tight and itchy in a way he wasn't used to, and he was certain that even the most fervent prayer wouldn't help alleviate it. 

—

Sure enough, sleep was hard won after Dimitri finally returned from prayer, his knees aching from the cold stone floor. He slept late the following morning, and didn't wake until Annette's frantic knocking roused him from a troubling dream. He'd missed breakfast and morning classes, and he hurriedly dressed and went to make his apologies to the Professor.

The humiliation of it stalked him through the afternoon, despite the Professor's assurance that he hadn't missed anything of great importance, and lingered in the back of his mind all through dinner. It was unacceptable to him that he had allowed such weakness to overcome him; not only had he allowed it to impact on his studies, it was now known to all that the Prince cared so little for his teacher and classmates that he would spend half the day lounging in bed while others worked so studiously. To make things worse, Claude had chosen to sit within earshot of him, and the sound of his voice in casual conversation set Dimitri's teeth on edge. It seemed as though Claude were suddenly everywhere that Dimitri was, inescapable, his clear laughter carrying across the hall. 

After evening prayer, Dimitri stalked directly to the Knight's Hall once more, eager to pick up a weapon and work out the frenzy under his skin. The Hall was unusually deserted, and it wasn't until Dimitri had begun to work up a sweat that he remembered several of his classmates discussing birthday celebrations for another student. Perhaps that accounted for the lack of students in the Hall. It didn't bother him that he hadn't been included among the invitations; in fact he would prefer not to be invited if the alternative was an invitation borne of obligation. Dimitri had never known what it was to be anything but a prince, but he often wondered how different his life might be without such a title. He wondered how it felt to Claude, to have grown up estranged from his ties to the nobility, only to be thrust back amongst them so recently. 

In an attempt to put his disordered thoughts aside, Dimitri ran through another set of drills, and then another, until his hands shook and his breathing came harshly. The harder he worked, the more determined were his thoughts, circling wildly. His sleepless night was catching up on him, throwing him off his stride, but he was loathe to end his practice so soon. Bad practice was better than no practice at all, after all. 

As he set down the base of his spear for a moment to catch his breath, Dimitri became aware of someone watching him. He glanced around, and was startled to find Claude nearby, as though Dimitri had summoned him unconsciously. He stood just inside the entrance, leaning against one of the stone pillars with his arms folded. He did nothing, not even raise his voice or a hand in greeting; he merely stood there, watching. 

Panicked thoughts fluttered like trapped birds inside the closed shutters of Dimitri's mind. He was in no fit state to be seen: weary and ragged, his hair and clothing soaked with sweat. Claude stood with a casual air that Dimitri could never hope to emulate, but his gaze was sharp and calculating, even across the yards that separated them. Dimitri felt naked under his gaze, and he squared his shoulders, reaching helplessly for the dignity of his position. "Good evening, Claude," he said, and winced when his voice came out hoarse and weak.

"And to you, Your Highness."

"What—what're you doing here?"

"Just observing," Claude said lightly.

Dimitri scowled. "If you hope to gain some advantage during the Battle of the Eagle and the Lion—"

He was interrupted by Claude's easy laughter. "With respect, Highness, I've seen better form from a jelly mould."

Dimitri bristled, his shoulders tensing. "I didn't ask for your opinion," he snapped. He was cognisant enough of his flaws without the added humiliation of a noble upstart toying with him like a cat with a piece of ribbon. 

"I'm generous that way," Claude said, unfastening the front of his robe and stepping into the training square. He shrugged off his robe, leaving him in only his shirt and breeches, and reached for a training spear. 

"What're you doing?" Dimitri asked, watching Claude begin to circle him slowly. 

Claude grinned. "I should've thought that was obvious," he said, raising his weapon and gesturing for Dimitri to advance. "Be gentle with me though, Highness. I don't have your skill with a spear."

"You want to spar with me?" Dimitri asked, puzzled by Claude's sudden interest. 

"Is that so strange?" Claude asked. "You often train with your companions, do you not?"

Dimitri opened his mouth to respond, then realised that the reply he was about to make was not very favourable, and closed it again. He swallowed thickly. He'd already made a fool of himself once that day, he could little afford further embarrassment, and he could only imagine his father's reaction if he discovered that Dimitri had been humiliated in training by someone like Claude. His sleepless nights were no excuse. The Prince of Faerghus could not afford to make mistakes. Worse still, Dimitri walked a narrow path at all times between order and chaos, and never had it felt so narrow as it did just then, thinned down to a mere tightrope. If he allowed his control to slip for even a moment, it could have disastrous consequences for his opponent.

Claude's lip curled. "Perhaps you think it beneath you, to spar with a barbarian like—"

"No," Dimitri said quickly, horrified. "That—I've never thought that about you."

"Then fight me," Claude said, holding his gaze, his eyes alight. 

Dimitri hesitated. All rational thought told him to refuse, but the challenge in Claude's eyes thrilled him down to his core. And beyond that, the idea of Claude believing that Dimitri thought him inferior was anathema to him. "Very well," he replied, raising his own weapon. "I accept."

Claude's smile was like the flash of a knife, and then he was moving, surging closer with the point of his spear raised. 

Instinct took over and Dimitri parried with ease, their spears clattering together and glancing away again. They circled one another, each looking for the next opening. Again, Claude attacked, and Dimitri knocked him back. They quickly fell into a rhythm, thrusting and parrying, moving around one another with fluid steps. As he'd suggested, Claude was clearly inexperienced using this kind of weapon, but he was quick and observant, challenging Dimitri in unexpected ways. 

The sparring match only lasted a minute or two before Dimitri saw an opening and neatly disarmed his opponent. Claude winced as his spear was knocked from his hands and clattered onto the hard-packed dirt, but he quickly disguised it with a grin. 

"Well well," he said, clapping his hands together. "As expected—"

"You let me win," Dimitri said, staring at him, bewildered and angry.

Claude hesitated, his smile freezing. "Did I?"

Dimitri nodded, conviction heavy in his throat. "You left that opening on purpose."

"That's an interesting theory," Claude mused, tapping his chin with one finger. "Perhaps we should test it with a rematch."

"Are you going to cheat again?" Dimitri asked, unable to keep the venom out of his tone. 

Claude seemed unconcerned. "Does it count as cheating if I don't win?"

"Of course it does," Dimitri said hotly, feeling sick. He'd hoped, perhaps foolishly, that Claude at least wouldn't defer to him the way everyone else did. He gestured to Claude's fallen weapon. "Pick it up. Fight me fairly, or not at all."

"You know, there's really no such thing as a fair fight, Highness," Claude said, as he bent to pick up his spear. He tested its weight in his hands for a few moments before turning back to Dimitri. "Those knightly values won't serve you on a real battlefield."

There was a bitter taste in the back of Dimitri's throat, choking him. "What would you know of a real battlefield?" he snapped, his fist clenching tightly around the haft of his spear. "How many times have you offered your life for your country, or your people?" 

Claude was silent for several moments, looking down at his hands. Finally he raised his head, his eyes bright and fierce. "Not once," he said lightly, and raised his spear to point it at Dimitri. "Are you going to show me how it's done, or not?"

Dimitri didn't wait for a formal invitation. He raised his weapon and thundered forward to strike at Claude, grimacing when the other boy easily danced out of his reach. He turned on his heel and swiped at Claude again, grunting loudly with the effort of his blow. 

Claude turned it aside and kicked one of Dimitri's feet out from under him. He tried vainly to keep hold of his spear, but it cost him his balance and he crashed to one knee, recovering himself moments later only to find the point of Claude's spear at his throat. 

"Had enough, Your Highness?"

His boyish smile made him appear friendly and unassuming, but the predator that lived beneath Dimitri's skin could sense something of the same feral hunger in Claude. Roaring, Dimitri grabbed Claude's spear and tugged on it hard to unbalance him. Tossing his own spear aside, he took advantage of Claude's momentary weakness to knock him flat onto his back, covering him with his own body and pinning him to the dirt with a hand at his throat. A moment passed before their eyes met, Claude's wide and stunned, their breathing heavy. 

"You underestimated me," Dimitri growled, his eyes roaming the familiar features of Claude's face as though seeing them anew. It was the first time he'd seen him so close. 

Claude blinked, and licked his lower lip. "Perhaps," he allowed. He shifted, and Dimitri froze at the sudden realisation that his hips were pressing down into Claude's, and that the heat of practice had caused a measure of arousal that Claude was no doubt aware of.

Heart racing, Dimitri retreated quickly, clambering to his feet without his usual grace. It wasn't the first time such a thing had happened to him during a heated practice, but something about _Claude_ seeing him in this state made his blood sizzle. After a few moments he noticed that Claude was still on his back, and hesitated only briefly before offering him a hand. 

"Thank you," Claude said as Dimitri helped him to his feet. He clapped his hands together, then brushed at the dirt on his breeches. "That was very...bracing."

"Again?" Dimitri suggested, his body hungry for more. 

"I have a better idea," Claude said, reaching out to clap Dimitri on the shoulder. His brow creased. "You're tense." 

Dimitri swallowed. "It is nothing."

Claude gave Dimitri a small smile. "Don't place too much on yourself, Highness. You must be under a lot of pressure."

The unexpected kindness of his words seized at the ragged edges of Dimitri's mind, and he sagged slightly. "I—have a great deal of responsibility."

Claude nodded. "I can see that."

Dimitri lifted his head, and found Claude watching him with a sympathetic gaze, his brows drawn together and his bottom lip caught delicately between his teeth. He flexed his fingers, but didn't release his grip on Dimitri's shoulder, instead adjusting his hold and digging his thumb into the muscle of his neck. Dimitri breathed out heavily. "I must...apologise, for my words earlier." When Claude merely raised an eyebrow, Dimitri pressed on. "You are a valiant warrior. You lead the Golden Deer with bravery and compassion."

Claude's surprise was evident, but he disguised it quickly with laughter. "Well, well, that was unexpected. If only I could win over the other nobility simply by letting them put me on my back." 

The dual meaning of his words was apparent even to Dimitri, who coloured. "That isn't necessary."

"Still, it might be easier than all this politicking," Claude said, shaking his head. He finally pulled his hand away from Dimitri's shoulder, leaving him cold. "I know of something that can help, if you'd be interested. It soothes anxieties and aids rest, especially after battle."

"Truly?" Dimitri asked, eyes widening. "Why have I not heard of this before?"

"The herb doesn't grow in Fódlan," Claude said. He grinned, cheek dimpling. "I managed to get my hands on some though."

Dimitri wrinkled his nose. "Do I want to how you came by this herb?"

"Probably not," Claude said, accompanying his words with a wink. "What say you?" 

For several moments, Dimitri was frozen. Claude already had an uncanny knack of seeing precisely the thing that Dimitri didn't want him to, but the prospect of easing the troubled thoughts that filled his mind, of staying the nightmares that plagued him, those things were too tempting to refuse.

"Very well," he said after a moment's consideration. "Show me."

—

"So, you've never tried this before?" Claude asked. 

They sat together on the floor of Dimitri's bedroom the following evening, surrounded by untidy stacks of books and parchments, maps with notations and arrows, and half a dozen broken quills. Dimitri knelt carefully in amongst the mess, his hands laid flat on his knees. He gave a solemn shake of his head in response to Claude's question. "I was not aware of it until you mentioned the possibility."

"It's pretty strong stuff," Claude explained as he took a pinch of dried herbs and carefully packed them into a clay pipe. "Especially your first time, if you're not used to smoking." 

"I will be fine," Dimitri said, frowning a little.

A smile touched the corner of Claude's mouth. His eyes were lowered as he worked, and Dimitri couldn't help but admire the delicate wing of his dark eyelashes against his cheek. His skin had grown darker with the summer, making the contrast of his bright green eyes all the more striking. 

"I'm not impugning your constitution," Claude murmured, his eyes flicking up to meet Dimitri's with a knowing gaze. "I don't fancy explaining myself to Dedue if I send you back half suffocated."

Dimitri's jaw tightened. "Then what do you suggest?"

Claude straightened up, holding the freshly packed pipe aloft like a prize. "It's easier if someone more experienced filters it for you." 

"Alright then," Dimitri agreed. "I assume you're volunteering."

Claude's smile was wicked. "Gladly." He pushed back his sleeves to his elbows, then he snapped his fingers together, sparking a tiny flame between them, which he used to light the end of the pipe.

Dimitri frowned at him. "Was that nursery spellcasting meant to impress me?"

"That depends," Claude said, pausing to blow out the flame before winking at Dimitri. "Is it working?"

Heat rushed to Dimitri's face, and he turned his head away. "Of course not," he huffed, his hands clenching into fists where they rested on his knees. Dimitri was aware that he didn't always notice when he was being teased, but he got the sense that Claude _wanted_ him to know on this occasion. After a few moments, he uncurled his fingers and glanced back at Claude, who was watching him idly while he took shallow pulls from the pipe, making the packed herbs glow like an ember. Dimitri cleared his throat. "How do we do this, anyway?" 

As though he'd been waiting for that very question, Claude grinned and moved closer, until their knees were touching. "Don't be afraid if it hits you hard at first," he said in a low voice that rumbled through Dimitri's chest. As if he could sense the effect he'd had, Claude reached out and laid a hand over Dimitri's breastbone, warm through his layers of clothing. "Breathe in when I breathe out."

Puzzled, Dimitri nodded. He licked his dry lips. His fingers clenched and unclenched. 

"Come here," Claude murmured, lifting the pipe to his lips again. "Open your mouth."

Dimitri obeyed without thinking, watching Claude's cheeks hollow as he took a pull from the pipe. Then Claude pressed two fingertips against Dimitri's jaw and leaned closer, until their lips were almost touching, and gently exhaled a cloud of smoke into his mouth. Shocked by his sudden proximity, by the damp breath on his cheek, Dimitri startled back with a gasp. His throat filled with sour smoke and he doubled over, coughing violently.

To his dismay, Claude burst out laughing: a warm, hearty laugh that resonated down through Dimitri's chest to his belly. His face was hot when he straightened up again. 

"Are you well?"

"I'm fine," Dimitri said, voice hoarse.

Claude grinned. "Had enough?"

Dimitri shook his head. Even if he wanted no more of the bitter smoke, his skin tingled where Claude had touched him. A dark, hungry little part of him wanted to feel the heat of Claude's breath against his face again. 

"Try to breathe in slowly this time," Claude murmured as he lifted the pipe again. He drew from it, then he leaned in once more and breathed out softly between Dimitri's parted lips. 

This time, Dimitri was prepared for the rush of warm smoke, for the sensation of Claude's lips humming against his own. He took a shallow breath, and although his throat tightened, he managed not to cough. The inhalation warmed him down to his belly, and when he breathed out again without choking, Claude gave him an approving nod. The acknowledgement made him tingle, and he recalled Claude's words to him the previous evening, the care with which he'd touched him. 

"Once more?" Claude prompted, and Dimitri eagerly assented. He'd almost forgotten about the promised effect of the herb; he was entranced by the teasing curve of Claude's lips, the flicker of his long, dark eyelashes, the freckles that dusted his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. This time, when Claude leaned in again, he slipped his hand around the back of Dimitri's neck and held him gently. Their lips brushed together, sending a shiver down Dimitri's spine, but he focused on breathing slowly so that he wouldn't disgrace himself again. 

It felt like a long time before Claude released him, leaving the nape of Dimitri's neck cool without the heat of his fingers. Dimitri swayed on the spot for a moment before opening his eyes to steady himself. 

Claude was watching him, eyes narrowed like a cat, while he sprawled loose-limbed against the edge of the bed. 

"What is it?" Dimitri asked, through the haze that was settling over his thoughts.

A smile touched the corner of Claude's mouth. "Has anyone ever kissed you, Highness?"

The words seemed to reach him slowly. Dimitri felt loose, his limbs unusually light. "No," he replied without thinking. "No-one has." Realising what he'd just admitted, he turned his head aside to hide the sudden heat that claimed his cheeks. "Perhaps—it is for the best. I wouldn't know what to do if someone did."

"There's no shame in not knowing how to do something," Claude said, his voice a soft rumble. "Everyone needs a teacher."

His words planted an image of Byleth in Dimitri's mind, and he shivered. The new Professor had a similar effect on him to Claude, filling him with a sensation he couldn't put a name to, a hunger he didn't know how to sate. 

"I could teach you a few things," Claude continued, softly. "If you like."

Dimitri stared at him, his brain struggling to connect the pieces. He'd never kissed anyone, and had never given much thought to it either. It was a frivolous pastime, enjoyed by people who had the time to engage in romantic pursuits, not by those engaged in the business of ruling a nation. But, despite the way he attempted to portray himself, Claude didn't seem to him like a frivolous person, and the thought of kissing him made Dimitri feel hot, his stomach churning. 

With great force of will, Dimitri turned aside once more. "I—cannot," he said.

"Are you sure?" Claude asked, leaning closer again. "I'm not going to laugh at you." After a moment's pause, he lifted his hand and brushed Dimitri's hair off his forehead, fingertips gentle against his temple. 

With a groan, Dimitri leaned into his touch, eyes falling shut. "Claude," he whispered. 

Claude leaned in to press his mouth close to Dimitri's ear. "Let me show you," he murmured.

Dimitri squeezed his eyes more tightly. "No, I—" He opened his eyes, and found himself hooked by Claude's brilliant gaze. Unbidden, his eyes flicked down to Claude's mouth, entranced by his full lips. He wondered how they would feel pressed to his own. His mind was blissfully empty, but still, a stray thought wavered to the top, and he pulled away instinctively. "Sometimes," he murmured, "I—do not know my own strength. I would not wish to hurt you."

Claude's low chuckle made him shiver. "I'm tougher than I look, you know. Besides, it's just a kiss." He gently tucked his finger under Dimitri's chin and tilted it up. "Unless you had something else in mind?"

"Ah—" Dimitri stammered, flushing deeper. "I—" 

"Shh," Claude whispered, leaning in. He was so close, Dimitri could already feel the imprint of his mouth even though they weren't yet touching. His hands were shaking, and he clenched them around the hem of his tunic as Claude closed the scant distance between them. 

It was soft and strange, and Dimitri was startled by the shock of fire that rippled down his spine in response. It made him want, in ways he hadn't known he could want. 

Claude pulled away after a moment, the tip of his tongue coming out to wet his lower lip. "Now, was that so bad?" he teased.

Dimitri could feel himself trembling, and he clenched his fists more tightly, trying to assuage the sensation.

A frown touched Claude's brow, his dark eyebrows drawing together. "Want to stop?"

Hesitantly, Dimitri shook his head. 

Claude smiled. "Good," he murmured, and leaned in to capture Dimitri's mouth once more. He was more forceful this time, pressing his mouth insistently against Dimitri's, until Dimitri parted his lips with a sigh. He felt Claude's smile, and then his lips moving, working against Dimitri's mouth while he sat, frozen and stiff. Claude pulled away again after a moment. "Sorry," he said, with a rueful smile. "I need to actually teach you, don't I?"

"You don't have to do this," Dimitri muttered.

"Ah, sweet Prince," Claude sighed. He reached up and brushed Dimitri's hair back again, tucking it behind one ear, then trailing a fingertip around the delicate shell of his ear. "Kissing isn't just about mashing your lips together, although that's certainly a fun aspect." He slid his hand down to the side of Dimitri's neck. "It's about exciting your lover." Leaning close, Claude kissed the edge of Dimitri's jaw. "Exploring them." A kiss to his cheek. "Showing them how much you want to be close to them."

Dimitri blinked at him, somewhat dazed. "You—want to be close to me?" he asked, his heart squeezing like a fist. 

Claude nodded. "Remember, I'm not just kissing you. We're kissing each other. It's about giving and receiving pleasure."

"Pleasure," Dimitri repeated. 

"I know you're a stick in the mud," Claude said, laughing, "but don't break my heart and tell me you've never allowed yourself a little pleasure."

Dimitri frowned. "I—of course I have."

"Oh yeah?" Claude said, tilting his head. He gestured for Dimitri to come closer. "Show me."

"Sh-show you?" Dimitri asked, his face hot. 

Claude nodded. "Just relax, and try to copy what I do."

His heart in his throat, Dimitri pushed himself up on his knees and moved closer. Claude reached for him, cupping a hand around his cheek as he guided Dimitri into another kiss. The other hand moved to his hip, holding him gently. They pressed their lips together softly at first, but Claude didn't wait long this time before deepening it, parting Dimitri's mouth with his own, and stealing the tip of his tongue inside. Dimitri let himself enjoy the sensation for a few moments before recalling Claude's suggestion that he reciprocate. Shuffling closer, he placed his hands tentatively on Claude's hips, and pushed out his tongue to meet Claude's, the two glancing off one another before meeting again insistently. 

"Mm, that's good," Claude murmured as they parted briefly. He kissed the corner of Dimitri's mouth, darting away when Dimitri tried to recapture his lips. "You're doing well, Highness. Don't be afraid."

Dimitri grabbed a firmer hold of Claude's hips and kissed him again. He was floating, surprised by his own behaviour but not enough to stop it. This time, when Claude's tongue pressed into his mouth, Dimitri moaned softly and clung to him more tightly. Claude responded by sliding his fingers up to hold Dimitri's neck, then up to tangle in his hair. Dimitri moaned again, louder this time, not caring how he sounded. He'd never given into his desires outside of battle, and this was just as joyous a surrender, maybe more so, his entire body alight with the sensation of Claude's fingers tugging at his hair, of soft lips moving against his own. 

Finding his courage, Dimitri grabbed Claude more tightly again and pulled him down to the ground, sighing into Claude's mouth as the other boy's weight fell on top of him. Dimitri wrapped his arm around Claude's neck and opened his mouth wider, kissing him with untidy abandon. Everything was wet and slow, and he was hot all over in the most wonderful way. 

"H-Highness," Claude mumbled between kisses, pushing himself up on one hand. "A moment—"

"No," Dimitri said firmly, grasping at Claude's clothes. "D-don't call me that."

Claude chuckled softly. "I thought you were all about proper decorum."

Dimitri shook his head, and pressed his open mouth to Claude's jaw. "Call me by my name," he whispered, his face hot at the thought of making such a request. "Please."

"Oh?" Claude murmured. He nudged Dimitri's head to the side and nosed along his jaw, before biting the side of his neck gently. 

Dimitri cried out, clenching his hands into tight fists at his sides. "Claude," he groaned, hips canting upwards.

"Easy," Claude murmured, voice soft against his throat. "Dimitri."

"Nn," Dimitri groaned, and grabbed a fistful of Claude's hair. "More," he demanded, dragging Claude up to kiss him again. He thrust his tongue into Claude's mouth, stroking it against his tongue, the backs of his teeth, heedless of the saliva running down his cheek. 

When they broke apart again they were both panting, and Claude's cheeks were a charming shade of pink. "This is a good look on you," Claude murmured, brushing his thumb against the corner of Dimitri's mouth. He reached over to the still-smoking pipe beside the bed and took another pull from it, then he leaned down again. 

Dimitri opened his mouth eagerly for more, filling his throat with the heat of Claude's breath, the sour taste of the smoke, then Claude set aside the pipe again and teased Dimitri's mouth open with his tongue. They kissed lazily, their hands roaming over one another. Dimitri was hot, and as if in answer, Claude's fingers flirted with the fastening of his tunic, tugging it loose at his throat, his fingertips ghosting over Dimitri's heated skin. Inspired, Dimitri responded in kind, tearing at Claude's clothing with furious abandon. Between them they removed Claude's robe, and Dimitri ran his fingers up the side of Claude's neck, marvelling at the warmth of his dark skin, inhaling the faint musky scent of him from their brief sparring session. 

"You too," Claude urged, tugging at Dimitri's clothing again. 

Although he could scarcely feel his fingers, Dimitri managed to aid Claude and sighed in relief as he shrugged off his constrictive outer layer. Claude fell upon him as he cast it aside, kissing his bared throat, his neck; there was an audible rip as Claude tugged his shirt aside, and then he sank his teeth into Dimitri's shoulder. 

Dimitri cried out. He was floating, anchored only by the delicious pain of Claude's teeth grinding into the tendons of his neck, by the heat of Claude's hands moving inside his shirt, setting his bare skin alight. He wanted more, but he didn't know _what_ he wanted. His hips canted up, almost without his awareness, seeking out the pressure of Claude's body against his aching cock. He'd never been so aroused, and it didn't grant him the shame that usually followed. All he could think of was chasing the pleasure that Claude had hinted at. Growing desperate, he grabbed at Claude's hair again, making a helpless noise in lieu of intelligible speech. 

"Easy there," Claude said, kissing slowly up the side of his neck. "We've got all night, you know."

Dimitri groaned, lifting one leg and pressing it against Claude's hip. He needed more, _now_. He tore at Claude's clothing again, one hand pulling uselessly at the front of his breeches, desperate for more of his delicious, musky skin. When he felt that Claude was aroused too, Dimitri made a helpless sound, trying to pull the other boy down on top of him again.

"Woah there," Claude said, resisting him. "Dimitri," he murmured, sliding his hands up to cup Dimitri's face. "Slow down, it's alright." He was haloed by candlelight, and their glow picked out gold on his cheeks and eyelashes. 

"Need," Dimitri muttered nonsensically, his fingers digging into Claude's hips so hard that it earned him a wince. 

"Let me help you feel better," Claude said, releasing his face and rolling off to the side. He tore at the fastening of Dimitri's breeches, pulling them open and reaching into his underclothes. "Do you ever...touch yourself?"

Dimitri stared at him, wide-eyed. "S-sometimes."

"Mm, that's a relief," Claude murmured as he closed his fingers around Dimitri's aching cock. "I was starting to think—"

With a cry, Dimitri threw his head back as he spent in Claude's gentle grasp, pleasure spilling from him in waves. Claude broke off, eyes widening. 

"Oh," Dimitri gasped, as the pleasure stretched out, wavering like a soap bubble, before finally bursting. His shoulders fell back to the floor, and several moments passed in heavy silence, broken only by Dimitri's own laboured breathing. "Oh," he managed at last. "I—ah, I'm—"

"Dimitri," Claude said slowly, looking down at his hand. "Just how long has it been since you pleasured yourself?"

Dimitri groaned vaguely. "Claude—"

"This is an obscene amount," Claude continued, his voice oddly reverent. "I don't know whether to be impressed or concerned."

Belatedly, a trace of embarrassment heated his face. "Claude," he said, intending to remonstrate, but his voice came out weak and hoarse. 

Claude laughed. "Perhaps I should accompany you to the infirmary," he said, leaning down over Dimitri. "Speak to Professor Manuela about it." 

"Don't be foolish—"

Cutting him off, Claude cupped his face and kissed him slowly, and Dimitri made an urgent sound and pulled him down so he could deepen it. He was still shivering with pleasure, ruined by it; it wasn't until Claude withdrew his tongue and sat up that Dimitri even noticed Claude had grabbed him with the hand covered in his own spending, and that it was now smeared across his cheek and the side of his neck. 

"Oops," Claude murmured, using his thumb to wipe it off Dimitri's cheek, and only succeeding in spreading it further. He grinned. "It suits you."

With a growl, Dimitri rolled over and on top of Claude, pinning him to the floor with his weight. He grabbed Claude's wrists, pinning them above his head. His spending still covered Claude's left hand and wrist. 

"It was a jest!" Claude yelped, struggling, his face warm with laughter. 

"It is your turn," Dimitri told him solemnly

Claude stopped resisting and blinked up at him, the light shining on his vivid gaze. "Oh," he sighed, lips forming an easy smile. "Alright then."

Dimitri swallowed, and flexed his fingers around Claude's wrist. "I—do not know what to do."

"I'm enjoying _this_ rather a lot," Claude murmured, emphasising his words by canting his hips up against Dimitri's, making him shudder at the pressure on his spent cock. "Although I've often thought about your backside."

"M-my backside?" Dimitri yelped, flushing deeply. 

Claude nodded, his smile lazy. He somehow made it look as though he'd chosen to let Dimitri pin him, rather than the other way around. "Give me the use of my hands and I'll show you."

An unsettled sensation coiled in Dimitri's belly, like the roll of a ship on the sea. "What are you going to do?"

"Don't look so worried," Claude said, laughing. "I didn't bring you here for a tupping."

_A tupping_. Claude's filthy choice of words sent a shuddery heat rolling through Dimitri. He'd seen people engaged in such relations, among the soldiers of his battalions. He'd never applied the thought to himself. Such intimacy was far removed from him, a distant future; before it could happen there must be courtship, and a wedding, all of it arranged for him, planned out like pieces on the map of a battlefield. 

"Dimitri." Claude's low voice was like a fingertip running down his spine. "Do you trust me?"

Dimitri's eyes widened a fraction, but the words brought a strange calm over him, and he nodded. "I do."

Claude groaned, and rolled his hips up against Dimitri once more. "Tell me again."

"I—I trust you, Claude." 

"Mm," Claude hummed, shuddering. He strained uselessly against Dimitri's hold on him. "Let me go, Princeling," he growled, offering up a feral grin. "I want to show you a few things."

Dimitri released him finally and Claude raised his hips so he could shimmy out of his breeches. His legs were slim and muscular, and Dimitri had the brief notion of applying his teeth to Claude's inner thigh before his thoughts were interrupted by Claude tugging at his remaining clothing. 

With Claude's encouragement, Dimitri turned his attention to helping and they scrambled out of their clothes before falling into bed together. The smoke had made Dimitri slow and clumsy, his thoughts a jumble. It took them several moments to untangle themselves, and Dimitri made a frustrated sound in his throat as he groped for Claude's face, and finally kissed him again with a sigh of relief. He burned to be touched, ached with it, somehow even more now that he'd already reached his quickening. Claude kissed him back with equal ardour, dragging his nails down Dimitri's bare shoulders and eliciting a low whine from him. His cock was hard between them, pressing into Dimitri's stomach, and he longed to touch it but he couldn't seem to drag his hands away from the scruff of hair at Claude's nape, or the smooth, warm plane of his shoulder. 

"Dimitri," Claude murmured. He rolled Dimitri onto his back and covered him with his strong, lithe body. Breaking the kiss, he trailed his lips instead across Dimitri's face to tug at his earlobe with his teeth, then he kissed slowly down his neck, his thumb pressing into Dimitri's bottom lip. "Mm...you're beautiful."

Heat rushed to Dimitri's face. "But—_you're_ beautiful," he insisted. 

Claude laughed, his breath ticklish on Dimitri's clavicle. "Am I?"

Dimitri nodded fervently, and buried his fingers in Claude's hair. "I—don't know what to do when you smile at me," he confessed, low-voiced. "I—it—what should I—"

"Dimitri," Claude murmured, laughing softly. He lifted his head, his eyes crinkling. "Who knew you had such a romantic side hidden away?" 

"It's the truth," Dimitri insisted. He was sure that he was being made fun of, but he didn't know in what way. "Anyone would say that you're beautiful."

Claude shook his head, his smile wry. "Hardly anyone, least of all here in Fódlan."

"I don't understand," Dimitri said with a huff, dropping his head back to the mattress. 

"I think you do," Claude said, lowering his head to circle the tip of his tongue around Dimitri's nipple. 

Dimitri huffed, and clenched his fingers in Claude's hair again. "Fools," he murmured. He tossed his head back with a groan when Claude closed his lips around Dimitri's nipple and sucked it slowly. "Claude—" he sighed, pleasure rippling through him again. He'd never felt so loose and pliant, and he'd certainly never felt so much pleasure. The rare occasions that he tended to himself were brief and furtive, performed with as much efficiency and as little noise as could be managed.

His thoughts scattered again when Claude's teeth scraped over his hip, then the liquid fire of his lips wrapped around Dimitri's cock, demolishing any lingering sensibility in his mind. Claude pulled off after only a moment, dragging his wet mouth over Dimitri's stomach, fingers flexing around his hips. "What a pretty little cock you have, Highness," he teased. 

"Claude," Dimitri groaned, his voice soft, not at all the reproach he'd intended. 

"Now let me see that backside I've been dreaming of," Claude continued, sitting up and tugging at his hips. Face flaming, Dimitri allowed himself to be rolled onto his stomach, folding his arms beneath his chin. "Oh, yes," Claude sighed, running his hands up Dimitri's thighs and then grabbing handfuls of his bottom. "Simply _charming_."

Dimitri snickered. "Don't be so foolish."

Ignoring him, Claude slung a leg over Dimitri's thighs and lowered himself so that his cock pressed up against Dimitri's backside. "Nn—charming indeed," Claude groaned. He reached down to part Dimitri's thighs, and pushed his cock down between them, grinding into the hot, tight space. "O-oh, Dimitri—"

The sensation overwhelmed him; Dimitri grabbed handfuls of the sheets, his mind flickering back to Claude's filthy words earlier, imagining what it might be like to be _taken_ by him, marvelling at how the thought excited him. 

"Are you enjoying this?" Claude asked him in a low voice. He slid his hand up Dimitri's spine, lingering between his scapulae. "I can feel you trembling."

Dimitri whimpered. 

Claude's answering laughter was low and dirty. "Let me ease things along," he said, stepping off the bed and reaching to snatch something up from the low table beside his bed. It was a bottle of clear oil, and Dimitri watched over his shoulder as Claude pulled the stopper and tested a little on the back of his hand. "Mm, still warm."

"Warm?"

"Just a simple enchantment on the bottle," Claude explained, his words skimming over the fuzzy haze of Dimitri's mind. 

Warm oil splattered across the backs of Dimitri's thighs, splashing up over his backside. Dimitri flinched at the sensation, but then Claude slipped his fingers down between his thighs, spreading the oil around, setting his nerves alight. When he was satisfied, and Dimitri was quivering with anticipation, Claude straddled him once more and pushed his cock into the tight, slippery space between Dimitri's thighs, and all Dimitri could feel was hunger. He clenched his fists tightly in the sheets, dropping his head with a groan. From above him came an answering sound, a low moan that sent his stomach tumbling. Claude put his hands on Dimitri's hips, pressing down, holding him tightly, and then he finally started to move. 

The oil made everything feel different, better, _more_. Claude's cock slipped easily between his thighs, like Dimitri was a woman, like he was _made_ to be taken this way. The thought thrilled him, and his heart hammered when Claude paused to take a firmer grasp on his hips and shuffled closer, driving his cock right up between Dimitri's legs, grinding into the sensitive spot behind his balls. 

One clumsy thrust sent him surging the other way, so that the blunt head of his cock glanced off Dimitri's hole and slipped between his buttocks. A guttural sound punched out of Dimitri's chest, and he clapped a hand over his mouth far too late to rein it back. Behind him, Claude hesitated. Dimitri bit his lip, hoping that Claude wouldn't remark on it, and he was puzzled when he heard the _clink_ of Claude unstoppering the bottle of oil once more. Claude moved one warm hand to the base of his spine, flattening it against Dimitri's skin, before pulling up, spreading him open. 

Dimitri stifled his gasp this time, but it was a fruitless effort when Claude began to drizzle the warm oil between his buttocks, and a shocked sound of arousal spilled from his throat. 

"Do you like this?" Claude asked softly. He grasped his cock and pushed it against Dimitri's backside, grinding against his slick hole. In response, Dimitri made another helpless sound, his breathing quickening. "It sounds as if you do."

"Claude," Dimitri managed, twisting his fingers in the sheets. He dug his knees and toes into the bed and canted his hips backward without thinking.

Claude groaned above him, then he shifted his weight and cupped his hand around Dimitri's backside, squeezing it firmly. He let his thumb slip into the cleft, and before Dimitri could protest, stroked slowly over his hole, massaging it gently. Humiliation burned Dimitri's cheeks, but he didn't even consider asking Claude to stop. He was shaking, helpless sounds spilling out of him. Dimitri had previously had no notion of how good it could feel to have someone's hands on him, particularly in such an intimate place, and he didn't want it to end. 

"Dimitri," Claude murmured, shifting back. "Do you like this?" he asked again, pressing his thumb in, slipping it past the ring of muscle and pushing inside him. 

Crying out softly, Dimitri nodded. 

"Tell me," Claude said softly. 

"I—I like it," Dimitri gasped.

Claude hummed low, pleased. "You're doing well. So soft for me, so wet—"

"Nn, Claude—"

"Come here, Sweetness," Claude urged, putting a hand under his hip. "Up on your knees."

Dimitri clumsily shifted onto all fours, and was rewarded with Claude kissing the base of his spine, before twisting two oiled fingers inside him. "Gghh—" Dimitri groaned, dropping his face back into the sheets. "Claude—_ah_, Claude—!"

"I'm here," Claude soothed, fingering him slowly. He reached around with his other hand, slick with oil, and used it to squeeze and stroke Dimitri's cock. It wasn't enough to bring him off a second time, but the dual points of pleasure made him twitch and shake, already beginning to feel overwhelmed by it. "That's good," Claude soothed, kissing down his spine. "Getting close?"

"Mmh," Dimitri groaned, thrusting his cock into Claude's fist, pushing back on his fingers. "Cla—unh—hh—"

Claude laughed quietly, then squeezed his fingers tight around the base of Dimitri's cock. "Not yet," he murmured. He withdrew his fingers at the same time, and moved his mouth down over Dimitri's backside, before biting him hard right at the crease of his thigh and his bottom. 

"_Ah_," Dimitri cried, tearing at the sheets. But Claude wasn't finished. Holding Dimitri's buttocks apart, he traced his tongue down from the base of Dimitri's spine until he reached his hole. "Wha—what—" Dimitri gasped. 

Rather than answer, Claude responded by circling his tongue around Dimitri's hole, massaging it the way he had with his thumb. His breath was heavy and damp, like the hot exhale of his smoke-laden breath from before, but now accompanied by the slick, obscene sounds of him licking and sucking at Dimitri's hole. 

Dimitri's mind had scattered; he was floating, focused only on the pleasure. Claude kept him humming along the precipice, not quite allowing him to reach euphoria a second time despite Dimitri's frantic pleading, instead teasing his cock with slow movements, squeezing him hard whenever he made too much noise. After an interminable amount of time, Claude moved against him, drawing in a breath that was cool against Dimitri's skin, before plunging his tongue inside him.

Dimitri cried out, and the sheets below him split with a ghastly rending sound as he ripped them in two. Claude's movements paused, and the pressure behind him abated. Sitting up, Claude leaned over him to look at the wreckage. 

"My my," he murmured, his low chuckle tickling the back of Dimitri's neck. "Is that a good sign, or a terrible one?"

"Nn," Dimitri groaned. 

Claude rolled him over and clambered atop him, pinning Dimitri's wrists beside his head while grinding his slippery cock against his chest. Dimitri flexed his hands, and Claude smirked down at him.

"I know," he said, smirking. "You could easily break that hold if you wanted to."

Dimitri turned and glanced at Claude's hand pressing his wrist into the mattress. It hadn't occurred to him that he could break free, and he flexed his fingers, testing Claude's grip. "But—why would I?" he murmured, blinking up at Claude once more.

Claude groaned and bore down with his weight, grinding against Dimtiri's sternum again. "Dimitri…" His cock slipped between Dimitri's pectorals, skimming up against his throat. 

The heat of him was overwhelming, Dimitri tilted his head back with a gasp, lips parting. 

"You have such a pretty mouth," Claude murmured, gripping his wrists more tightly. He slowly thrust against Dimitri's throat. "You'd look so good wearing my pearls." After a few lazy thrusts, he released Dimitri's wrists and moved higher, using a thumb to tilt his chin down. Sighing, he tapped the velvety head of his cock against Dimitri's chin, then rubbed it slowly along his bottom lip. 

Instinctively, Dimitri ventured the tip of his tongue out for a taste, and Claude groaned loudly. His taste was bitter and salty, but not unpleasant. Dimitri thought of Claude's mouth flirting briefly with his own cock, and excitement churned within him at the thought of reciprocating that delight. Slowly, he lifted his eyes to Claude's. 

A slow smile spread across Claude's face. "Shall I teach you this as well?"

Dimitri nodded, eyes wide. 

Claude grinned. "So eager," he teased. He sat Dimitri up, pushing him back against the wall, then he spread his knees across Dimitri's hips and pressed his cock against Dimitri's chin again. His hand touched Dimitri's head, fingers running gently through his hair, brushing it back from his face. "Firstly, remember to breathe," Claude said, as Dimitri opened his mouth hungrily. "And mind your teeth. That one's rather important."

Dimitri made an urgent sound, and remembering the use of his hands suddenly, brought them up to clutch at Claude's hips. He used his grip to pull Claude closer, letting his eyes fall shut as the oily length of Claude's cock nudged up against his cheek. 

"Good," Claude murmured, still stroking his hair. "Just relax, you'll do fine." Holding his cock, he angled it toward Dimitri's lips, thrusting slightly. 

With a sigh, Dimitri opened his mouth, doing his best to remember Claude's advice. The taste of him was disguised by the thick, clingy flavour of the oil, but all Dimitri could focus on was remembering to breathe around the hot weight on his tongue, how big he seemed, how it sent heat _pouring_ down his spine. 

"That's good," Claude said, cupping his hands gently around Dimitri's neck. He brushed his thumbs against Dimitri's jaw. "Close your mouth around it, keep your lips over your teeth."

Dimitri tried to follow his directions, closing his lips around Claude's cock and groaning when Claude took the opportunity to push deeper, grinding against his hard palate. He could already feel a rivulet of saliva running down his chin, and he was sure there was more he should be doing with his tongue, but it was taking all his concentration not to choke or accidentally bite down. 

"Mm, Dimitri—that's good, you're so good at this." Claude slid one hand up, grabbing a fistful of his hair and tugging gently. "Nn—your mouth, Dimitri—"

Gripping Dimitri's hair more tightly, Claude tugged him back suddenly, pulling his cock out of Dimitri's mouth. He wrapped his fingers around it and started to work himself quickly, groaning deep in his chest. He curled into himself, still holding Dimitri's head back, and then suddenly he was spilling over Dimitri's lips, his spending spattering across Dimitri's nose and cheeks, dripping down his chin, more of it landing on his tongue. Dimitri closed his eyes instinctively at the first splash of it, keeping them shut until Claude used the pad of his thumb to wipe a smudge of his spending off Dimitri's chin.

"Ah...sorry," he murmured, sounding not at all contrite. He grinned down at Dimitri's stunned face. He stroked the pad of his thumb along Dimitri's bottom lip. "Your mouth is just—I couldn't resist." 

Dimitri swallowed thickly, grimacing at the bitter taste. "Was that—alright?"

"Perfect," Claude said, bending down to nuzzle his cheek against Dimitri's, heedless of the mess. He moved his lips across to Dimitri's mouth and kissed him slowly, savouring the taste of himself off Dimitri's lips. "You were perfect," he said again, starting to smile.

Dimitri echoed his expression, and then stuttered out a gasp when Claude's hand ventured down between them and stroked his cock slowly. 

"You've been so patient," Claude murmured. "I won't make you wait any longer."

"C-Claude," Dimitri stammered, clutching at the other boy's shoulders. 

Claude shushed him softly, lips still pressed against his sticky cheek. "I like this side of you," he said, gripping Dimitri's cock more firmly. "You should let it out more often."

It was getting difficult to make sentences. Dimitri tried hard to connect the fuzzy words in his head to his mouth. "I—I d-don't know how...to do that."

"You're doing well," Claude praised, stroking him faster. "Let it out, Dimitri."

"Please," Dimitri gasped, not knowing what he was asking for. He pushed his fingers into Claude's hair, pulling him closer, pressing a desperate, open-mouthed kiss to his cheek. "_Please—_"

He shook as pleasure was ripped from him, clinging to Claude far too hard. Claude didn't complain, merely held him through it as he went from shaking to trembling, as he realised the animal sound he could hear was himself and subsided to a whimper. 

"There," Claude murmured at last, when Dimitri was still. He wiped his hand and wrist on the torn sheet, then pulled Dimitri down to lie with him, running gentle fingers through his hair. "Feel better?"

Dimitri couldn't speak, but he managed a grunt, and pressed his face into the sticky, salty skin of Claude's neck. 

"Fair point," Claude said, laughing low. He pulled what was left of the sheets up to cover them and looped his arm around Dimitri's waist. "By the way, Highness, I should've mentioned..."

"Mmh?"

Claude chuckled. "Nothing. Don't worry. I know a good remedy for headaches."

**Author's Note:**

> [RT on twitter](https://twitter.com/notallbees/status/1194735213185773568) | [my three houses fic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notallbees/works?fandom_id=23985107)


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